


Our Baby Bird

by LittlePrincePotter



Series: Childhood's Gifts [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman - Fandom
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Brotherly Love, Damian Wayne is LOVED, Damian Wayne is a child, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27571162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlePrincePotter/pseuds/LittlePrincePotter
Summary: Damian family shows him he's loved just the way he is.This can be read as a stand alone fic, or part of the series.A great big thank you to the best beta reader ever: peppersonironi! Check them out here and on Tumblr!
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne & Everyone, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth & Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Series: Childhood's Gifts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015302
Comments: 37
Kudos: 240





	1. Its Good to be Home

Damian slowly regained consciousness. 

The first thing he noticed was the numb feeling all over, and how he was a little groggy. The all-too familiar effects of pain killers. 

There was no cold concrete below him. Instead, he was on something soft. Silk was touching his skin, and he felt stuffed toys against his chest. Somewhere around him there was a near-constant beeping sound. A blanket lay on top of him, the soft fabric brushing against his hand. 

Little green eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was Baba. Baba was in a chair next to him, his chin touching his chest as he slept. Next to him was Grayson, who had his head on Baba's shoulder. He was snoring softly and drooling just a little bit. 

"You up kid?" A woman said softly. Suddenly someone was adjusting his blanket, making sure it was up around his shoulders. He looked up at her. 

It was Harley Quinn. 

"Don't worry," she said, "I'm just checking on ya. Dr. Thompkins is asleep so it's my turn to watch ya." She pat his head gently. "How ya feelin'?"

Damian parted his lips to respond, only to find that his mouth and throat felt drier than desert sand. He let out a quiet, choked sound. Harley just nodded. She turned and put her hand on Baba's left shoulder, the one Grayson wasn't currently using as a pillow. He startled awake when she shook him. 

"He's awake," she told him, "I'll wake the doc to check on him and grab him some water." 

Harley disappeared from Damian's hazy vision, leaving him staring into Baba's blue eyes. Baba smiled at him. It was a sweet, loving smile that made Damian feel warm inside. Baba turned and shook Grayson, who woke quietly. 

"Baby Bat," his older brother said fondly, reaching out to push a hand through his hair. "You feeling okay?"

Damian nodded. He wasn't in much pain due to the drugs. His head felt fuzzy, but other than that he felt pretty alright. Grayson reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. He leaned in close and brought Damian's hand to his lips, kissing the soft skin. 

"Your hands feel bigger than the last time I held them," Grayson said, "I bet someone has a growth spurt coming on."

Damian didn't think his hands were any bigger than before, but he smiled at his brother anyway. Grayson knew how much he wanted to be taller. Fingers started combing through his hair, but since Grayson was now holding Damian's hand with both of his, the boy assumed his father was petting him. 

"Give me some space," Thompkins said as she began placing her stethoscope in her ears. Father and Grayson's hands parted from him, and he had to fight back the urge to whine at the loss of contact. 

"I'll try to make this quick Damian," she promised.

She started by checking his heart and blood pressure. She shined a light in his eyes too. He hated that part. 

Quinn came back with water, and Grayson carefully helped Damian sit up to drink it. When he sat up, he noticed the rest of his family were looking at him from different places in the batcave, although they seemed to be giving him a bit of space for now. 

As the child drank, quickly emptying the glass. Thompkins carefully removed the IV he had in his right arm and Quinn removed the heart monitor, which stopped that annoying beeping. After Thompkins finished with her check up, his impatient family quickly surrounded his bed. 

He received warm lips on his forehead. It was Drake. 

"I'm glad you're awake," he whispered. His voice was heavy, like he'd been crying. 

Someone gently rubbed his belly. It was Cain. She offered him a smile and let her other hand cup his cheek briefly before falling away.

Todd rested his arm around Damian's shoulders, being careful not to exacerbate any of the injuries on his little brother's back. "I think you're right Dickiebird," Todd said, "He must have grown an inch or two while he was out." 

"Want me to take that for you Damian?" Thomas asked, holding his hands out for the child's empty water glass. Damian rested it in his hands. "I'll get you some more water, and one of Alfred's cookies while I'm in the kitchen. He made chocolate chip, just for you."

An arm settled around Damian's waist. It was Grayson, trying to hug him without hurting his back. His older brother pressed a kiss to the top of his head before resting his cheek on top of the raven hair. 

"Don't crowd him too much," Baba said. Still, no one went to move. Todd and Grayson still had arms wrapped around him. Cain was rubbing his stomach as well, and now that Grayson had abandoned his hand in favor of holding his waist, Drake was now holding one of Damian's hands. 

"It's okay Baba," Damian said, his voice still slightly choked. He offered his father his other hand, which Baba gladly took. 

"I'm glad you're okay Damian," Father said. 

Damian smiled at him. His family was snuggling him and it felt good. It felt good to be loved. It made him feel all warm inside. 

He looked at the group around him. Thomas had gone to the kitchen. Gordon was down by his legs, but she wasn't touching him, just smiling. 

"Where is Brown?"

"Steph has some broken ribs," Barbara answered, "She's resting right now." 

Damian bit his lip. "Did Mother do that to her?" He asked, his voice barely audible. The room seemed to freeze at the mention of Talia. 

"Yes," Baba answered after a moment, "But it isn't your fault."

Damian tried to believe that, to shake the feeling that it was his fault. The events that landed him in the medbay were playing through his head in slow motion. 

Why hadn't she killed him? Did that mean she loved him?

Thomas interrupted his thoughts when he handed Damian some more water and a warm chocolate chip cookie.

"Alfred wants to know if you'd like to eat down here or upstairs," Thomas said. 

"We could watch a documentary as you eat," Grayson suggested, "does that sound fun?" 

Damian nodded, his mouth currently full of cookie. 

Grayson lifted him up with care, tucking both his arms under Damian's thighs and bottom while the child wrapped his arms around his brother's neck. Baba followed behind, carrying Damian's stuffed toys for him. The group migrated upstairs. 

They curled up in the living room. Grayson sat on the couch and held Damian on his lap. Baba sat on their left, and Drake took a seat on their right. Baba set Damian's toys in his lap, and Damian immediately snuggled his stuffed circus elephant and fluffy black bat to his chest. They were comforting. 

A nature documentary was pulled up on the screen, but Damian struggled to pay attention to it. His mind wandered back to his Mother. 

She had never just abandoned him after punishment before. Punishment was part of life in the League of Assassins. It made a person stronger and unwilling to accept failure. 

After being punished, Mother would always be there. If he took his punishment well, whatever mistake that had led to the punishment was forgiven, and she loved him again. But not this time. This time she had just disappeared. Why? He hadn't even cried like he had sometimes when he was small.

"Baby Bat?" Grayson said softly, looking down at the child, "Did you hear what Alfred just said?"

Damian blinked. Everyone was staring at him now, various stages of worry etched into their expressions. 

"I was listening to the documentary," he lied, "I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright Master Damian," Pennyworth said, his voice softer than usual, "I have brought you shawarma with no meat of course." The butler placed a hand on Damian's shoulder. "I am extremely grateful that you are alright." 

Damian let his hand rest on top of Pennyworth's for a moment. They smiled at each other before Pennyworth pulled away. 

Drake leaned forward and cut some of his shawarma, putting it on a fork. The fork was then held in front of Damian's mouth. 

Damian was taken aback. Yes, him and Drake had been getting along much better, they'd even been affectionate toward each other, but feeding him? That was downright infantalizing and it made him just a bit angry. He didn't need to be fed like a baby. 

Drake stared at the expression on Damian's face before giving a small smile. "I figured leaning over your food might hurt your back," he explained. Damian blinked. Oh. That made sense. They were worried about his injuries. Damian's anger melted away, but he was still embarrassed as he allowed himself to be fed. After a few bites, Baba switched places with Drake, citing that Damian might be more comfortable if his father did it instead. 

They fed him his meal, and Damian was acutely aware of everyone looking at him while he ate. It was as if he might fade away at any moment. Part of him hated it, but it gave him a strange feeling too. It was like their worry made him feel as though he mattered. 

Drake had a particularly worried expression. His eyebrows were knitted and he was much paler than usual. He looked almost sick with concern. 

"You know Dami," Grayson said, "It's almost two in the morning. We should probably get you to bed."

Damian hadn't realized how late it was. He wasn't even sure how long he had been unconscious for. But his head was still a little fuzzy from the painkillers, and he was sure everyone else was tired, so he nodded.


	2. Food from Todd

Damian walked in the kitchen, sniffing the air. It smelled good, but he was surprised to find that Pennyworth wasn't the one cooking. It was Todd. 

Todd looked up at him and offered a smile. 

"Morning Baby Bat," he said softly, "You sleep okay?"

Damian nodded, not wanting to talk about his nightmare. Todd looked him up and down, assessing his honesty. If he determined that the child was lying, he didn't say anything. 

"C'mere," Todd said as he set a plate down on the table, "I made breakfast for you."

Damian was a little surprised. Todd usually only cooked for himself, not anyone else. The child sat down, setting his stuffed elephant on the table, and looked at the food. 

"What is this?" He asked. The food looked like some type of brownish yellow chips with lots of toppings. Damian wasn't sure those were chips though. 

"They're chilaquiles," Todd replied as he pulled down the milk and some spices, "Think of them as kind of like tacos. Don't worry, I didn't put any meat in them." 

Damian took a bite. It was warm and slightly spicy, but also full of different flavors. Damian liked how the spicy sauce Jason had made contrasted with the cool sour cream. The flavors mixed in surprising, yet satisfying ways as they danced over his tongue. What he previously thought were chips weren't nearly as crunchy. They were sort of soft. The texture was just perfect.

He turned to see what Todd was doing, only to find him putting ingredients into a glass of milk. He added cinnamon, honey, vanilla extract, sugar, and a bit of nutmeg. Todd stirred the concoction and put it in the microwave. 

"Do you like them?" Todd asked, turning back to look at Damian. 

"Yes I do. I like them a lot actually," the child admitted. 

Todd ruffled his hair. "I'm glad you like them, kid. I'll make them for you more often."

The microwave beeped and Todd retrieved the strange milk he had created. He handed it to Damian. 

"Personally," Todd said as he ran his hand through Damian's hair again, "I think chilaquiles go best with something warm and sweet." 

The child let the milk wash over his tongue and he was almost embarrassed by how relaxing the warm milk was. He let out a small, content sound as Todd started petting his hair as he drank. 

When Damian finally pulled the now half-empty glass away from his lips, he found Todd smiling down at him. It wasn't Todd's usual cocky smirk. It was a fond look that made Damian feel a bit warmer inside. 

"You know, I can make you some of that before bed. Warm milk helps you sleep," he offered. 

"I would enjoy that," Damian replied, returning Todd's smile, "Thank you."

"No problem kid. Now eat your food before it gets cold." 

….

Todd did end up keeping his word that night. As Damian was getting ready for bed, Todd brought him his sweet, warm milk. Damian tried to drink slower this time. Part of him said he was drinking slower because he wanted to savor how it tasted. 

The truth was he just didn't want Todd to leave. 

His older brother sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arm around Damian's shoulders. He had brought a book with him: Pride and Prejudice. As Damian sipped at his drink, Todd read to him. 

"That making you tired?" Todd asked, looking away from the pages to inspect his brother's face. 

Damian nodded and gave a weak "mhm."

The older man gently led Damian's head to his chest. Damian relaxed into him, listening to his heartbeat as he sipped his milk. Soon, his older brother started to sing that Spanish lullaby Damian had come to love. He felt his brother's chest vibrate as soft lyrics surrounded him and warm liquid went down his throat. He felt a gentle swaying motion, and it took him a moment to realize Todd was rocking him ever so slightly. Todd wrapped a hand around the glass, holding it to Damian's lips for him. The child thought about protesting, but he was so relaxed and his eyelids were just so heavy that he just wrapped an arm around his brother. The other arm was wrapped around a stuffed red racoon.

The child's eyes began to close. 

"I love you Damian," his brother said softly. 

Damian tried to mutter 'I love you too' as he drifted off, but he wasn't sure Todd heard it. 

Jason set his book and his little brother's empty glass on the nightstand. He flicked off the lamp near the bed and ever so carefully moved so he was laying down and the kid was pretty much laying on top of him. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of the child's head. 

Jason's arms laid protectively over Damian all night. 

That became somewhat of a routine since then. Todd would make Damian milk at night, read to him, hold his glass for him when he got too tired. It took a little while, but Damian did end up getting over his embarrassment of his brother holding the glass for him. It became comforting to hold a stuffed toy with one hand and clutch his brother's shirt with the other as he drank. 

Jason would never tell anyone just how cute the kid looked like that, clung onto him with his face all relaxed and his eyes closed. Jason would always carefully wipe the milk from Damian's upper lip after the kid fell asleep. The kid looked so much tinier like that, so much more innocent like that. It was almost scary when the older boy had to resist the urge to practically coo at him. 

What was scarier was how much Jason had taken to loving his brother, who he would have punted across a football field just a year earlier.


	3. Painting with Thomas

Damian was getting used to his family's sudden increased affection. He was receiving hugs, kisses on his head, basically all platonic affection a person could want. It was strange, but whenever he wondered about it, he was reminded of how worried they had all looked when he woke up in the cave. 

Today, he had been drawing in his sketchbook when there was a knock at the door. 

"Come in," Damian said absently. 

Thomas opened the door and smiled at him. "Hey kid," he said as he knelt down next to Damian, "how ya feeling?"

"I'm fine Thomas." It wasn't said with any bite or aggression. Damian just preferred to be straightforward. 

The older boy smiled at him for a moment in silence before speaking again. "Hey Dames. Do you think you could teach me something? I'm itching to learn something new."

The child tilted his head, a thoughtful look on his face. "I'm trained in multiple martial arts and can use a plethora of weapons. I'm sure I can find something to satisfy you."

As Damian stood, Thomas put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in his place on the ground. "You're not allowed to train until the wounds on your back heal, remember?" He said gently, "Besides I was thinking of something more artistic."

"Artistic?" 

"Yeah. Dick, Bruce, and Pennyworth are always bragging about how you're quite the artist. Can you teach me?"

Damian smiled at the idea of his family bragging about him. He stood and moved to his art supplies. "What do you want to learn? I have acrylic paints, oil paints, and watercolors. I have colored pencils, a whole bin of markers, charcoal pencils, different sized pens for inking."

"Maybe you could teach me how to draw a person first?" Thomas suggested, his eyes ghosting over Damian's extensive collection of art supplies. Damian nodded. He pulled down a drawing figurine, an empty sketchbook, and a pencil.

Thomas and Damian settled against Damian's giant stuffed animals after Damian set the figurine up into a simple pose. 

"Most people start with the head," Damian began, "so to do the head you begin with a circle."

…

After a few hours, Thomas was covered in art supplies. They had tried everything. Painting with various paints, watercolor, charcoal, inking, etc. Damian had just finished a little painting of Brown and Cain hugging each other. He added glitter for good measure. 

"Is that for Steph?" Thomas asked. 

"Yes," Damian replied, "I feel… somewhat responsible for her current injuries. Cain is her best friend so I painted them."

"That's really sweet of you Damian," Thomas said with a small smile. Damian felt a little heat rise to his cheeks. 

Thomas reached out and ruffled Damian's hair. "Do you have skin safe paints?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever painted on a person before?"

Damian was a little startled by the question. "No?"

"Wanna try it?"

The child thought about it, then nodded. It would be interesting to experiment. He retrieved his paints and went to work on Thomas's skin. It was his first time painting on skin, so he definitely wanted to experiment. Up Thomas's left arm, Damian decided to pain Gotham during the day. That was when Thomas protected it after all. He spared little detail, but he decided to make it a little happier, for Thomas's enjoyment. A bright blue sky free of smog unraveled against Thomas's smooth skin. It rested on top of the towering buildings of Gotham city. Of course Thomas, in his Signal costume, was painted on top of a tall tower, looking for signs of danger. 

Damian moved to the other arm. Purples, pinks and blues mixed together to create the twilight above Gotham. The night time heroes were scattered about Thomas's bicep and forearm, ready to protect the city. 

There was still more exposed skin. Damian had never worked with this medium before and was finding that he quite liked it. He moved to Thomas's neck, testing out different animal-skin patterns and other textures there. Satisfied, he moved to Thomas's face. Above his left eyebrow a highly detailed nest full of robins would be displayed. Above his right eyebrow were three sleeping bats hung upside down. In the center of Thomas's forehead, Damian painted a bright, glowing yellow sun. Sunlight and bright sky spread over Thomas's face, fading into a sunset at his nose and across the tops of his cheeks. Below that, the light faded into a night sky filled with dazzling stars. 

"There," Damian said, pulling back. Thomas stood and went to Damian's bathroom to check the mirror. 

"Whoa," Thomas said quietly, studying his face. 

"Do you not like it?"

Thomas turned toward him. "Damian this is amazing. It's just- it's breathtaking. You know they've got like, competitions for this kind of stuff right?"

Damian tilted his head curiously. "They do?"

"Yeah. You'd probably have to wait until you're older to enter, since the models are mostly nude." Thomas chuckled when Damian crinkled his nose at that. "But I think you could win one. We'd all support you."

"I will keep that in mind Thomas," Damian replied, "I believe it is your turn to paint."

Thomas ruffled his hair. "Yeah I believe it is."

….

"Master Damian, Master Duke," Alfred said, peering through the open door, "it is time for… dinner." He had one eyebrow raised as he looked over the scene, but otherwise didn't say anything. 

The two came into the dining room. Jason gave a low whistle. 

"Did you do that Damian?" Grayson asked, gesturing to Thomas. Damian nodded, feeling a little heat rise to his cheeks at the amazed expressions around him. 

"It's beautiful," Drake piped, "Can I take some pictures Duke?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't." 

"I'll get some pictures of Damian," Grayson said. Damian's face was painted orange with black stripes, and little white whiskers. Thomas had tried at least. 

Dinner was delayed by the taking of way too many photos, much to Pennyworth's dismay.


	4. An Apology to Brown

The child stared down at the food he had made, with just a little bit of help from Todd. He liked the chilaquiles that Todd made him sometimes when Damian wasn't feeling well, or when Todd just felt brotherly. Damian had asked if they could make the sauce just a bit more spicy than usual. Brown liked spicy foods. Todd had just chuckled and complied. 

It was set on a tray with the small, glittery painting of Cain and Brown he had done earlier. Damian looked at the painting, glancing at mistakes he'd made here and there. Maybe he shouldn't give it to her. Maybe he should wait and do another painting. 

The kettle hissing was what pulled him from his thoughts. Quickly making up a cup of honey-lavender tea (the sweetest tea he found in the house) he set the China cup on the tray and carefully lifted it. 

The pit of his stomach felt heavy as he walked into the living room where Brown was sitting. She was knelt down next to the coffee table, doing her best impression of a bat-glare toward her math homework as if she could intimidate it into doing itself. 

Damian approached the table and set the tray down next to her, startling her. 

The blonde looked at him, and then took in the contents of the tray. Something that she thought might resemble nachos was in the centre. There was a small plate with a few of Alfred's cookies on it, and a warm cup of tea, and-

She carefully picked up the small canvas. It was her and Cassandra, hugging. There was some glitter on their outfits. 

"Did you make this for me?" Brown asked softly. 

"Obviously," Damian said, "I'm clearly the most artistically capable person in the household."

The girl gave him a bright smile. "Thank you." She set the canvas aside and looked at the food. "Did you make this, um, stuff too?"

"Those are chilaquiles," Damian replied, "Todd assisted me in making them."

Brown nodded. She carefully took a bite and then made a satisfied mm-mm sound as she chewed. Once she swallowed, she looked back at him. 

"This is really good, thanks for making it," she said. She tilted her head slightly. "But uh, I've already had dinner. Think you could help me finish it?"

Damian hesitated, but he took a seat next to the blonde and began to eat as well. They quickly finished off the chilaquiles and split Pennyworth's cookies. Generally, they were silent as they ate, only speaking up now and again. 

After they were finished, Brown thanked him again and looked back at her homework, eyebrows furrowed instantly. 

Damian stared at her expression for a moment. "What are you working on?"

"Calculus," she grumbled, tapping her pencil against her temple, "It's terrible."

"Have you asked Drake for help?"

"Tim is coming down from caffeine high so he's going to be asleep for like sixteen hours."

There was silence for a moment. 

"Can I help?"

She looked up at him like he'd grown a second head. "I mean, I guess you can try." She slid the paper over to him, handing him her pencil. 

Damian looked at the first equation and gave a small smile. Mother's tutors had him doing this when he was seven. 

His smile fell as he thought of Mother, but he quickly pushed the thought away and focused on the task at hand. The tip of the pencil touched the paper and he began working out the problem, trying to show every little step so Brown could see how he was doing it. The pencil made a satisfying scratching sound as he circled his answer. 

Brown was staring at him, mouth open with awe. "How'd you do that?"

"I'll show you."

…. 

Stephanie beamed at her finished homework. Thank whatever divine power out there that that was over, and she was totally ready for her test on Tuesday. She wrapped her arm around Damian's shoulders, careful not to hurt her ribs or his back. 

"Thanks for helping me with that," she said softly, "In return, I think I'll teach you how to beat the others in Mario Kart." 

"Mario Kart?"

"Yeah it's a game. They can get really competitive. I'll know where all the secret short cuts are, and I know the best way to navigate the hardest track."

Damian's eyes narrowed at the prospect of besting his siblings at something. He nodded, and Brown retrieved the controllers. 

…

Mario Kart was fun. Some of the maps were a little too bright and some of the music was too cheery, but overall it was a good game. It didn't take long for him to start winning. 

As he successfully navigated Rainbow Road the third time in a row, Brown ruffled her hand through his hair. 

"You know," she said softly, "what happened to me isn't your fault." 

Damian stiffened, but he didn't say anything. 

"My dad was… well he was an ass to put it lightly," she continued, "And that kind of screwed me up when I first became a hero. I thought it was my job to make up for his actions, but everyone, Babs especially, helped me see that that wasn't true. My dad made his own choices, and that's not my fault." She turned so she could see his face. "I am only responsible for my own choices, and not only am I not responsible for my dad's choices, but I don't have to be like him either. I'm not doomed to be some weird knock-off Riddler, and everytime I put my costume on, I prove that." 

One of her hand's held his. "You aren't responsible for your mom, Damian. You're only responsible for your own choices, and I think you've made really good choices. Also you're just a kid. You have plenty of time to decide who you are and what you stand for." 

Damian looked up at her, his eyes shining with unshed years. "Thank you Brown."

"No problem. Now, wanna come help me put all the decaf coffee grounds into the regular coffee packaging to screw with Tim?"

The child smiled. "Of course."


	5. Lullabies with Pennyworth

Mother was smiling at him. He had committed his first kill, and even as his hands shook a little and his heart was racing in his chest, he couldn't help but love his mother's smile. 

He was only four years old. 

"Good job Damian," she told him. "Come. Let's get you cleaned up and you shall have something to eat." She pat his head. "I am proud of you."

Those words had seeped through his skin and warmed him to his core. They were even better than her smile, better than her touch. He wanted to hear them again. He'd do anything to hear them again. 

She told him again that she was proud as he watched the stranger's blood come off him and go down the drain. 

The dream shifted. 

Damian was kneeling in his room, playing with his toys. He had just gotten a bunch of stuffed dinosaurs, so he had decided to enact a prehistoric drama with them. 

The door slammed open. It was Mother. 

Mother's shadow was longer than usual, engulfing him in darkness. She was taller. Her face was twisted into the ugliest scowl he had ever seen. 

"What is this Damian?" She demanded, "What are you, an infant?" Thunder rumbled under her voice when she spoke. 

Damian opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't make any sound come out. 

Thunder crashed in the background and he found himself flinching. 

"You are a disgrace to the house of Al-ghul!" She screeched. A whip appeared in her hand, and she advanced toward him. She raised the whip and-

Damian shot awake, hot tears running down his cheeks. He gasped for breath. He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? His hands moved up to his arms and he scratched at the skin there, trying to get the blood off. Whose blood was this? Was it his? Had he killed? Had he killed someone?

Gloved hands rested on top of his, forcing them to be still. He thrashed. 

"Master Damian!"

Damian opened his eyes and blinked away tears. "Pennyworth?"

The butler was leaning above him, holding his hands in place as he had apparently been tearing at his own skin.

"Come here," the man said in a gentle tone he rarely used, "Come here little one. I will clean you up."

Damian's mind was a little foggy. He whimpered, both from his dream and the slight pain on his back and arms, as he was carefully scooped up and taken to the bathroom connected to his bedroom. Pennyworth sat him up on the counter. He flicked on the light before disappearing into Damian's room again. 

The child turned to look at the mirror. He had scratched his arms up, making them an angry pink and drawing blood in some places. Nothing major. 

He turned back when a soft toy was placed in his hand. Pennyworth had returned with his stuffed bat. The man's hands came up to cup his cheeks, his thumbs gently pushing Damian's tears away. 

"It's alright little one," he said softly, "You are safe here."

The butler removed his hands from the boy's cheeks, only to slide them down to his sides and gently pull him into a hug. Damian couldn't help but lean into Pennyworth's touch. He was comforting. They sat there until Damian's breathing evened out. 

"I'm going to take care of your arms now Master Damian."

He nodded and felt the elder release him. 

Pennyworth pulled down the medical kit for Damian's bathroom. He took off his soft gloves and replaced them with latex ones from the kit. Antiseptic was applied to a cotton ball and Pennyworth began to gently disinfect Damian's arms. Bandages were placed where his arms had been scratched open.

"There you go little one."

"Why do you keep calling me little one?" 

Pennyworth blinked, as if surprised he had said it in the first place. "I suppose it's because that's what I used to call your father when he had nightmares."

"Really?" 

"Yes. It was something his mother called him before she passed. It always helped him calm down, among other things."

Damian sniffled, his nose stuffed from crying. "What else?"

Pennyworth looked thoughtful. "He liked when I would warm his sheets in the drier for him, and let him watch a cartoon while he waited for them to be done. Would you like that?" 

The child nodded. Alfred went to Damian's bed and took the sheets off. One arm held the bundle of sheets as they walked, while Damian held Alfred's free hand. 

Alfred couldn't help but think how small he looked. He looked so much like Master Bruce, and Master Richard. He had remembered helping them with nightmares too. 

With the sheets in the drier, and a cartoon about animals on TV, Damian felt himself begin to calm down. He even felt himself smiling at the little talking tiger on TV. 

Pennyworth came and sat next to him. Damian hesitated before leaning into his side. He was rewarded with an arm wrapped around him. Pennyworth was warmer than Damian always thought he would be. He was like a little heater. 

"What else did you do for my Baba when he was scared at night?" The child piped. 

The man raised an eyebrow and smiled. He reached for Damian's stuffed black bat. "May I?"

Damian reluctantly handed the toy over. 

Alfred spread out the bat's wings, and began to sing, making the bat dance as he did 

"Fly away with me  
Among the stars and moon  
There is a whole world to see   
And we simply must go soon

Do not be afraid  
For I am here to guide you  
On this glorious escapade   
Surely the sights will excite you

We'll see things you've only dreamt of  
We might meet fairies  
Or mermaids  
Or ghosts

Anything is possible   
We might fight pirates   
Or ride unicorns   
Or find a flying herd of cotton candy goats

And at the end of the night my dear  
The sun will surely rise  
And we'll return home  
Just to find the most marvelous surprise

Those that love you the most   
Will be waiting there for you  
Keep those with open arms close  
And don't fly away too soon"

Damian found himself mesmerized by the song and the moving stuffed animal. At the end of the song, Pennyworth pressed the toy forward and made a kissing sound as its nose touched Damian's nose. 

The child took his stuffed animal back in his arms, giggling a little. Pennyworth gave him a smile that was worth a million lifetimes. 

"I think your sheets are ready, little one," he said softly, as if he were sharing a secret, "let's get you back in bed before your father gets home from patrol."

Alfred retrieved the sheets from the drier and carefully folded them in a small basket. He balanced it on one hip. 

"You know what else your father enjoyed?"

"What?"

The man leaned down and wrapped part of his arm under Damian's bottom. On instinct, Damian wrapped his arms around Pennyworth's neck. The butler set Damian on his free hip. 

He'd done this for Damian before. When Damian had gotten scared of a storm. 

Pennyworth gently bobbed Damian up and down as he walked to his room. The boy was mostly asleep, head leaning against his shoulder when they got to his room. Alfred gently set him in a soft chair and then went to work making the bed. Once the bed was made, he looked back to see the child's green eyes only half-open, looking at him. Damian had curled up his chair, his mouth chewing at his thumb nail absently. 

"We really must get you something to chew on other than yourself," The butler said as he scooped up the child and rested him in the warm bed, tucking him in. 

"Pennyworth?" Damian asked softly, "Can I… call you Jid? Just sometimes. When we're alone."

Alfred smiled and leaned down next to the bed. "Of course little one. Go back to sleep now." He kissed Damian's temple. "I love you."

"I love you too… Jid."

Alfred walked out, careful to close the door without letting it click. He looked to his left, where his employer stood, having just eavesdropped on that conversation. 

"Bad dream?"

"Yes I'm afraid so. Some warm sheets and affection quickly corrected the situation."

"Thank you Alfred."

"You have nothing to thank me for Sir," he said, "Now unless you plan on me also carrying you to bed, you should be on your way. It is almost four in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jid means Grandfather in Arabic


	6. Curious George with Gordon

Damian was on the couch today. He had a stuffed monkey tucked under his arm. His cheek rested against the head of the toy as his knees tucked in towards it. He lazily watched a nature documentary. It was his favorite. He must have watched it twenty times already. 

"Damian? What have you got there?" Gordon said as she wheeled into the room. It took him a moment to realize she was talking about his stuffed toy. 

"It is a monkey," he replied, "Her name is Isabella."

"Isabella?"

"Yes."

Gordon reached out, but she stopped. Only Damian's father, Grayson, and Cain could touch his toys without permission. Sometimes Todd, but only when he was helping Damian fall asleep. 

Damian moves the monkey, offering it to Barbara. She takes it carefully, inspecting it. She then smiles and hands it back. 

"Can I show you something Damian?" 

The child thinks about it for a second and then stands. Barbara gets to the stairs and calls for the lift mechanism. Bruce had put them around the house for her after she became wheel-chair bound. The lifts take a little too long for the redhead's taste, but she passes the time by watching Damian carefully carry his monkey, holding its stuffed hand every once in a while, like it's a person. She watches out of the corner of her eye, so hopefully he doesn't notice. 

She takes him to the library. 

"Sit here," she says, pointing to a plush chair, "I'll go get the book we're going to read."

Damian watches as she disappears into the cacophony of bookshelves. He whispers to the monkey "what do you think she's getting Isabella?" He doesn't think she hears him.

She does, and she has to dial down the smile currently engraved into her face before returning with a big yellow book. 

"That's Isabella," Damian says with just the slightest hint of curiosity in his voice. The title was in red letters and it said "Curious George."

"My dad used to love to read this to me when I was little," the woman explained, "Sometimes when I was acting kind of weird around the house because I was hiding an injury from patrol or if I had just had a bad day, he'd take it down and read it to me. He did it until I moved out."

"That seems it would get tiring after a while. Reading the same book over and over, I mean."

"I thought so too, when I was a teenager," she replied as she opened the book, "but when you get older you find there's a lot of stuff other people shared with you that you miss now." She looked toward Damian, who was examining the illustration on the first page. "Can I share this with you?"

Damian nodded. 

…..

So first thing first: Isabella was a boy, and Isabella's name was George. George was apparently taken from the jungle by a man in brightly colored clothing, because domesticating a monkey on a whim is perfectly reasonable thinking. 

Still, Damian liked the book. All the pages were bright and colorful. The art style was so much fun to look at. By the end of each story, he found himself involuntarily giddy to read the next one. 

At some point, Barbara had offered him to come sit on her lap. When Damian expressed worry about his added weight to her wheelchair, she transferred herself into one of the big library chairs, and Damian took her up on her offer. She covered them with a blanket and continued to read. 

The child found himself disappointed as the book closed. It must have shown on his face because Gordon spoke up. 

"Something wrong Damian?"

"No," he lied.

Gordon looked him up and down, looked at the book, and then back at him. She smiled.

"You know, after reading this to me, my dad would sometimes take me for banana cream pie. Does that sound good?"

"I've never had banana cream pie."

She let out a small chuckle. "There's this diner that all the Gotham cops love. They serve it there, and it's really good. My van is here. We could go." Damian looked like he was considering it. "We can take George on his own adventure in Gotham. I'll even bring the book. We can read it again in the restaurant."

"Pennyworth would be upset if I had desert before dinner."

"What Alfred doesn't know, won't hurt him."

".... okay."

……

The diner was small and had pale yellow walls in desperate need of a new coat of paint. Police lined the bar of the diner, saying hi to Barbara as she passed by. Damian looked a little nervous to be out in public with the way he was squeezing his toy. Maybe he was nervous because of the monkey. She never saw him carry toys around outside of the manner. Once or twice he would put them in a backpack, but that was only when it was stormy out. 

They pulled up to a table. The tables at the booths were lower, so Barbara just parked her chair at the end of it while Damian crawled in the booth. He sat near her, hugging his monkey to his chest.

….

Damian was sure Pennyworth would notice he wasn't eating as much at dinner. He had a knack for such things. Still, he was smiling and giggling with less and less reservation as they ate and read. This was fun. He was having fun. 

The older girl reached over and wiped some whipped cream off his lip. As the book closed again, she ruffled his hair. 

"Did you have fun?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to come back sometime?"

"Yes."

"Good. Maybe next time we'll bring a different stuffed animal on an adventure."

Damian ate the cherry off his plate. "I'd like that."


	7. Dancing with Cain

Cain approached him with a pair of green ballet slippers. She had gotten them for him apparently. Her own pair of black ballet slippers were already laced up on her feet. 

"I don't know how to do ballet," Damian admitted, wearily eying the slippers. 

"Teach!" Cain announced excitedly. Damian considered this. Thomkins had said he was healed enough to begin some physical activity. 

Damian slowly nodded. Cain smiled at him and took his hand. He grabbed his stuffed frog and followed her into the manor's ballroom. 

They started with stretches, and then she began to teach him some basic moves. 

It was harder than he thought it would be, although he didn't want to admit that. It was so much different than fighting. Damian had to concentrate on grace and flow instead of landing hits against targets. Mentally, it was a whole new exercise. Cain was so graceful as she moved to the music coming from the stereo. 

Cain didn't seem to mind it when he made mistakes or messed up steps though. She would give his hand a little squeeze before demonstrating the step again.

….

He was sweaty by the end of their little dance session. Turns out ballet was much more physically taxing than one might originally assume. It was also quite fun. Maybe he should do it more often. Cain seemed like she enjoyed dancing with him. 

"Done?" Cain asked. 

Damian considered if he really wanted to stop or not. His calves, feet, back, and hips were sore from using muscles he wasn't used to using. Dancing was quite different than fighting. Suddenly, a new idea struck him. 

"May I do something for you Cain?"

The girl tilted her head curiously, but she nodded. The boy smiled and hurried upstairs to retrieve his violin. Mother had insisted he learn. The thought of her made him freeze as he grasped at the leather case of the instrument. He shook his head, as if trying to physically rid himself of those undesirable thoughts and feelings. He returned to the ballroom, and Cain beamed at him when she saw the violin case. 

Damian switched the stereo off and removed the delicate instrument from its case. After quickly double checking it was in tune, he steadied himself and began to play. 

Cain moved around the room with unquestionable grace as his bow ran gently across the strings. He wasn't going off any particular song, rather just doing whatever felt right. Cain had no trouble following his lead. She moved right along with the notes with no hesitation. 

Soon, Damian joined her, slowly twirling and moving around her. He was careful not to do anything too strenuous, worried he might drop his precious violin. 

He and his sister flowed together, moving around one another as two halves of a whole. Damian had to admit she was more graceful than him, but she was the ballerina here after all. 

They continued like that: pushing and pulling in a single, beautiful flow. Damian wasn't sure how long this went on for, but when they stopped, even Cain was a bit sweaty. She tapped the side of his violin gently.

"Good," she complimented. 

"Thank you." He knelt down to situate his violin back in its case. "I had fun with this. Thank you Cain." 

She knelt beside him. Her arm wrapped around his shoulders and her cheek rested atop his head. He leaned into her. 

"Little brother?" 

"Yes?"

She kissed his head. "Baby. Baby brother." 

Damian's cheeks heat up. No one called him a baby. Yet she said it with so much endearment, he couldn't find it within himself to be upset or offended. He wrapped his arms around her torso. 

"Love." She tapped his nose gently. "Love baby brother." 

"I love you too." 

They sat like that for a while, holding onto each other. Cain started humming and eventually Damian joined her. 

After a while, he felt something wet hit his temple. Damian turned and looked at her. Tears were running down Cain's cheeks. Damian couldn't help but feel startled. 

"What's wrong?"

"Worried," she replied, "love you." 

Damian felt strange at the comment. Of course he knew his family was worried. They had been affectionately coddling him since Mother had injured him. He had trouble deciphering his feelings. Was it appreciation? Guilt? Both? 

He was worried. Cain never cried. He took his hand and carefully wiped the tears away from her cheeks. 

"I'm okay," he assured her, "everyone has been taking care of me. And I love you too."

She smiled at him and gave him a small squeeze.


	8. Dinosaurs with Grayson

Out of his entire family, Grayson was by far the most physically affectionate. He gave kisses on the head, hugs, and when any of his younger siblings felt scared or alone, they were welcomed into his bed for cuddles. 

Damian was reminded of this as his older brother was smothering him with a hug and kisses. 

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up in this position. One moment he was playing a video game, and the next he was captured in Grayson's grip, feeling his lips pepper Damian's head and temple. 

The youngest feigned annoyance for a moment before he threw his arms around his older brother. 

"You weren't supposed to be back from Blüdhaven until tomorrow," Damian observed as he melted into Grayson's touch. As much as all of his brothers may tease him for his affectionate nature, they all knew just how addictive Grayson's hugs were, and Damian was no exception. 

"I couldn't wait," the man replied, nuzzling Damian's raven hair, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Damian mumbled.

"I brought you a present."

Damian perked at the mention of a present. 

Grayson reached behind him and grabbed something. He presented Damian with a stuffed lamb. The lamb had folds that looked like stripes on its belly, hooves, and the insides of its ears. The child let his hands roam over his new toy. It was soft, and he liked the texture of the stomach. When the ears were touched, they made the most pleasant crinkle noise. 

Damian grinned as he played with the crinkly ears. No longer having any reservations, Damian took the gift from Grayson and squished it against his chest in an enthusiastic hug. 

"I noticed you didn't have any farm animals besides your cow," Grayson explained, "And I thought the cow could use some company."

Damian initiated the hug this time, the lamb crinkling as he did. His big brother readily embraced him, chuckling a bit at the younger's enthusiasm. 

Grayson stood after a while, hauling Damian up with him. The boy instinctively wrapped his legs around Grayson's waist and his arms around Grayson's neck. One of Damian's hands held onto the arm of the lamb, letting it dangle down his brother's back as he was carried. One of Grayson's arms was tucked under Damian's body, supporting him, while his other hand came up and combed through the boy's hair. Damian let a little content hum slip from him. 

Grayson relinquished his hold on his little brother only when they got to Daman's bedroom, and even then he took the boy's hand. He squatted down so he'd be at Damian's eye level. 

"What do you say Baby Bat? Can we play with your toys?"

Damian nodded enthusiastically. 

"What should we play?" The child asked.

Dick beamed at how tiny Damian was right now. He had a stuffed lamb cuddled to him, resting his cheek on its head. In the smallest voice Dick swore he had ever heard, Damian was asking him what to play. 

It made Dick's heart nearly explode. 

The child shuffled over to his shelves. He pulled down pastel-colored dinosaurs and brought them over to Grayson. 

The older man took a seat on the floor so they could play. 

…

"Rawr!" Grayson said in an overemphasized, gruff voice, "I'm going to eat you and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"There may be nothing I can do about it," Damian replied, his voice an exaggerated high pitch as he held his baby blue triceratops in a stand-off with the light red t-rex, "but I am not alone!"

The lavender pterodactyl, held by Damian, swooped down, hitting the t-rex on the head with its claws. The t-rex, or rather Grayson, let out a loud roar.

"Leave us alone!" The pastel-green brontosaurus said in a low voice as it walked on scene, taking its position to the right of the triceratops. 

"You can't take all of us!" Yelled the yellow stegosaurus in a shrill tone. 

The pterodactyl continued to circle overhead, threatening the t-rex down below with razor-sharp talons if it dared take another step toward the pterodactyl family. 

The t-rex gave another roar before charging forward. The reaction was instantaneous. The pterodactyl swooped down while the triceratops pressed its horns roughly into the attacker's stomach, letting out a battle cry as it did. The brontosaurus slammed the t-rex with its long neck. The stegosaurus ran for the t-rex's legs, hoping to throw it off balance. 

The onslaught continued until the t-rex stumbled backward, coughing as he did. The large dinosaur tilted dangerously before falling on its side. 

"I have been-" it coughed, "-defeated."

Damian couldn't help but erupt into a fit of giggles as the game came to an end. The silly t-rex should never have attacked in the first place. 

Dick was looking at Damian with the fondest expression, but Damian was so busy giggling he didn't even notice. 

Damian's giggles died down far too soon for Dick's liking, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. He pounced on the young boy, and his hands quickly began to tickle his sides. 

"Grayson!" Damian screeched as he collapsed into laughter, "No!"

Damian squirmed to no avail. His brother was intent on tickling him to death. The child must have been tickled for an eternity judging by the tears that had begun to gather in his eyes from laughing by the time Grayson stopped. Damian panted as he cracked one green eye open to peer at his older brother. 

Grayson grinned at him. He didn't gave Damian any time to react as he ripped his shirt up and blew a raspberry in his stomach. The child gave a loud squeal in reply. 

His big brother lowered his shirt back into place and scooped him off the ground. Grayson placed the small boy in his lap, letting Damian rest against him as the child recovered from being tickled to near-death. 

Dick pressed a kiss to his brother's head as the boy drooped against him, panting. 

"I love you Baby Bat."

"I love you too Richard."


	9. Ripped Toys with Baba

Bruce had raised plenty of children. He definitely knew what he was doing. At least most of the time anyway. Probably. 

So when he came down to the batcave to find his youngest son beating up a dummy with red eyes and a sniffly nose, he could at least tell the boy had been crying. 

Bruce approached carefully, coming up behind the boy. 

"Damian?" He said softly. 

The child whipped around, his eyes shiny with new tears. 

"Oh kiddo," he said softly, getting down onto his knees, "What happened?" 

"Nothing Father," he lied, even as he used his arm to swipe at his eyes. 

"Baby bat," Bruce said softly, "tell Baba what happened. Please."

Damian's bottom lip trembled and Bruce felt something tug at his heart. 

"I was stupid. I was stupid and careless."

Bruce's eyes automatically began scanning Damian's visible skin for injuries. Satisfied there were none, he looked back to his son and waited for him to continue. He didn't. 

"What happened Damian?" 

Damian bit his lip as a tear fell down his cheek. "I ripped Daisy!" He blurted out, stomping his foot and curling his hands into fists as he did. 

For a moment, Bruce racked his brain trying to remember who the hell 'Daisy' was. Then he remembered it wasn't a person. 

It was Damian's white stuffed circus elephant; one of his favorite stuffed animals.

Bruce gently took Damian in his arms, letting him collapse into a fit of sobs. He'd never seen Damian like this. All over a ripped toy?

Bruce chided himself as he remembered that Damian never had any toys to rip or break before. Now that he had toys, Damian had taken to cherishing his new possessions. No wonder he was so torn up about it. 

The man held his child to his chest and pet his hair until his crying calmed down to a few sniffles. 

"It's okay Damian," he said softly now that he was sure the boy was actually listening, "Accidents happen. Toys break and rip. But you know who's the very best at mending toys?"

"Who?"

"Alfred." Bruce paused and watched as Damian got a hint of a hopeful smile on his face. "Come on. Lets go give Daisy to Alfred. We'll watch a movie while she gets fixed."

"Okay."

Damian took his Baba's hand and led him up his room. Daisy was laying on the bed, her front right leg ripped at the seam. The sight made Damian's lip tremble all over again. Baba rubbed his thumb over Damian's hand before gently lifting the elephant, careful not to lose any of the stuffing. 

They found Alfred making Bruce's bed with freshly-cleaned sheets. The butler looked a little startled as he saw the state Damian was in. 

"Alfred, Damian ripped his toy on accident," Bruce said, "Can you fix it for him?"

"Of course Master Bruce," he replied, gingerly taking the stuffed toy from his employer. He bent down to look at Damian. "Miss Daisy will be just fine, Master Damian. You have my word."

Damian smiled, just a little. 

"Come on Damian," Bruce said, "let's go watch a movie. We'll watch Dumbo."

"What's Dumbo?"

Bruce smiled. "It's a movie about a little baby circus elephant." He tapped Damian's nose playfully, causing the boy to scrunch it up in the most adorable way. 

"Do you want to pick up a stuffed animal for you to watch with on the way?"

Damian nodded eagerly and they headed toward his room. Not that Bruce was surprised. He had become attached to these things. Sometimes Bruce could come down to the batcave to find a stuffed toy next to the sparring mat while Damian and Tim trained. Damian wasn't allowed to bring them on patrol of course. Too distracting. Bruce had compromised, letting him keep one in the back of the batmobile during patrol, so long as it didn't leave the batmobile until patrol was over. 

Bruce absently wondered if Damian's attachment to his toys was a rebellion against League of Assassins training him to never get attached, a consequence of Talia and Ra's never once letting him have any toys, or maybe it was normal for some boys this age. 

He pondered this as he watched his littlest son pull down a fluffy black bat. 

…

Damian didn't really like how mean the other elephants were to Dumbo, but he liked the movie in general. He had gotten to sit on Baba's lap the whole time. They munched on some microwave popcorn and Damian was allowed to have more soda than usual. 

"Having fun?" Baba asked, looking down at him. 

"Yes," he replied, leaning into the man's chest, "I'm enjoying this."

Bruce smiled. "We could make it a more regular thing."

"Will it still be special then?"

"Everything I do with you is special Damian." Baba held him just a bit tighter when he said this. "I love you very much."

Damian wrapped his arms around his father's neck. "I love you too Baba."

Alfred moved silently into the room. He smiled at his two masters curler together on the couch. The elephant had been mended, and Alfred had taken special care to make sure it looked like the rip had never happened to begin with. 

"Master Damian?" He said softly after letting his eyes linger on the scene too long. He walked over and presented the toy to the child. 

The boy took it and stared at where the rip had been. It was perfect. Daisy was perfect again. "Thank you Pennyworth."

"Of course. Now I will prepare food for you both that is not heavily-buttered microwave popcorn." He leaned down and smiled at Damian. "And next time, just tell me if your toys rip alright?"

Damian nodded, and Alfred smiled at him. He turned and made his way toward the kitchen.


	10. Advice from Drake

Tim was biting down on the end of a pen as he stared at the data on the screen. One of the international departments of Wayne Enterprises was skimming money off the top, and Tim had to figure out which one. So far he had ruled out the departments in Mexico, Canada, Brazil, Columbia, and Ireland. 

A knock sounded at his door and Tim paused. It couldn't be Dick, he was in Blüdhaven today. Steph, Babs, and Cass were having a girl's night out. Jason was terrible at knocking (although he had gotten slightly better since he walked in on Tim changing a few weeks ago). Bruce's knocks were heavy, while the one he just heard was light. Alfred gave light knocks, but only in groups of three and in quick succession while he verbally called their names. It could be Kon visiting, but he usually tapped on Tim's window. 

That meant this was most likely Damian. 

"Come in," Tim called as he removed the pen from his mouth. He looked back, only turning the desk chair slightly. The door creaked open, revealing that Tim was correct. Damian stood in there with a red dragon stuffed animal in his arms. 

"Drake."

"Damian. What's up?"

"I… wanted to talk. I require some advice."

Tim paused. "If you want advice about girls you should probably talk to Barbara." 

Damian's nose scrunched up and he had a hint of a pout on his lips. "No. It isn't about that. It's about… family."

Tim couldn't deny he was surprised. Damian wanted to ask him about family? He seemed like a poor candidate. Still, he motioned toward the bed. "Well sit down then I guess."

The child closed the door and made his way over to Tim's unmade bed. Really the boy should make an effort to be neater. 

"What do you need to know ?"

Damian bit his lip. "Before we begin, I want to know if it is okay that I ask about your biological family. I am aware that it is a sensitive subject."

Tim's brows furrowed. What could Damian possibly need to know about his mom and dad? He didn't want to push the kid away though. 

"Yeah that's fine," he decided. 

Damian took a deep breath and looked away from Tim. "How did you know that they didn't love you?"

The question hung heavy in the air for a minute. Suddenly, Tim really wished his little brother was asking about girls instead. Tim gave a small sigh.

"I think… I think I figured it out when I met Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. My parents never paid attention to me, and they found faults with everything I did. Bruce had trouble at first, since he was still grieving over Jason, but he tried. Sometimes after a hard patrol, I'd wake up to find my favorite Chinese food in the fridge or a drink from that coffee shop I really like. It was his way of showing he thought about me. Dick tried to be a good older brother. He played games with me and took an interest in my photography. Alfred would remind me to eat. Stuff like that. They showed me how a family should act, and that's when I finally realized my parents really didn't care about me."

Damian seemed to consider this for a moment, giving his toy a small squeeze for comfort. "How does it feel?" 

The kid's voice was smaller than usual, and it pulled at Tim's heart the wrong way. "It feels… it feels like there's a hole in me." He rested his hand over the center of his chest, where the hole was. "Sometimes it gets smaller and sometimes it gets so big it's the only thing I feel. But it never… it never completely goes away honestly. It's like there's this empty part of me." 

The child looked down. He was frozen for a minute before looking back up at Tim. His eyes were shining with unshed tears. "And how do you… deal with that?"

Tim stood and walked over to Damian. "Is this about Talia?" He asked in the softest tone he could. 

Damian nodded. "Punishment is part of being in the League. When I was younger, if I took my punishment well, then Mother would be there and that meant that whatever I had done was forgiven, and she loved me again." He gulped. "But this time, when the rag went over my face and they poured water on me, I…." He felt his face heat up. "I…. Soiled myself. And Mother was angry." He wiped at his eyes. "And when the punishment was over, she was gone." 

Tim wrapped both arms around his little brother, holding him close. 

"The hardest part… the hardest part is accepting that what happened to you was wrong," Tim said, "And that the people who were supposed to love you, don't. And that's gonna rip at you and it's going to sting." The elder felt tears prick his own eyes. "But after that, then you just have to remind yourself that there are people who do love you. That you have a family who adores you. You have to think about all the times people comforted you or helped you or hung out with you or just plain loved you. You have to remind yourself that Dick, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, Steph, Cass, Barbara, Duke, and I all love you." Tim wiped one of Damian's tears away with his thumb. "And after that it hurts a lot less."

They sat there, clinging to each other, until Damian and Tim were both out of tears. 

"So… people love you when they go out of their way to care for you?" Damian asked. 

"Yeah that's one way to look at it."

Damian nodded. "Okay. Thank you… hey Timothy?"

"Yes Damian?"

"I love you."

Tim smiled. "I love you too. Wanna hang out in my room for a while? I'm just doing boring Wayne Enterprises stuff, but you could draw or something."

"Yes, I'd enjoy that. What are you working on?"

Tim released Damian and sat back down in his desk chair. He passed the boy a piece of paper and a pencil. "I need to figure out which international department is taking money from the company."

Damian took the supplies offered to him and looked at the computer. "Oh. It's Argentina." 

"How the hell-"


	11. Tomorrow

Damian had never been so thankful for a thunderstorm.

Okay he still shuddered whenever a particularly loud boom of thunder sounded, but tonight was different. 

When a severe thunderstorm warning had been issued, members of the Barclay who didn't live at the manor had come over. Baba was holding Damian on his lap, rocking him gently as the storm raged outside. Damian held his stuffed bat in his arms, hiding his face in it. 

"We're gonna make a fort!" Grayson had joyously announced, running his hand through Damian's hair.

The child peered up at him. "A fort?"

"Yeah!" Drake chimed as he walked into the room with as many pillows as he could carry, "It's made of pillows and blankets and stuff. We'll all sleep in it together."

"Do you wanna help build a fort?" Baba asked. 

Damian nodded and reluctantly left the warmth of Baba's lap. Todd and Thomas has just come downstairs with blankets.

… 

Everyone else covered the living room in a fort of massive proportions while Gordon helped Alfred out in the kitchen. 

The fort was then filled with bedding to sleep upon and activities to do. Todd had books, Cain had music, Brown had crafts, etc. Damian laid in the center of his family's "cuddle pile" as some movie drones in the background. Todd had made that special sweet milk, and was holding the glass for him as he drank. Baba had an arm wrapped around him, Grayson was petting his hair, Drake was rubbing his stomach, and Cain had her head laid across his thighs. Gordon was sitting on the couch, passing sweets around every once in a while. Someone fed Damian a cookie, but he wasn't sure if it was Pennyworth or Brown. Pretty lights danced on the blanket that made up the ceiling of the fort, courtesy of Thomas's powers. Damian's little green eyes followed the dots dancing above him as they got heavier. 

The thunder slowly became a distant memory, no matter how loud it was. His body relaxed as he finished off his milk. Someone switched off the TV and little kisses on his tummy made him giggle quietly, and squirm just the slightest bit. 

"You'll wake him up more if you tickle him too much Cassandra," someone said. The kisses on his stomach abruptly stopped. 

Alfred began to sing that lullaby that he had shared with Damian. Slowly, the others began humming along. First Baba, then Grayson. It moved through Todd and Drake before Brown and Gordon picked it up. Finally, Cain and Thomas joined in the melody that laid under Alfred's lyrics. Little green eyes finally couldn't stay open any longer. 

Tonight Damian was a child. He was a child who was engulfed by his family's warmth and affection. And the best part?

He'd still be a child tomorrow.


End file.
